Where Are You Going?
by E.A. Cooper
Summary: It's become your catch-phrase of sorts. Just hearing the phrase, even in a normal, everyday setting makes you smile.


******Title:** Where Are You Going?  
******Author:** emily64cooper  
******Rating:** PG  
******Characters/Pairing:** Parker/Hardison  
******Summary:** It's become their catch-phrase of sorts. Just hearing the phrase, even in a normal, everyday setting makes you smile.  
******Author's Note:** Part i takes place whenever you chose. Part ii takes place during the beginning of 2x13: The Second David Job. Part iii takes place at the end of 2x13: The Second David Job. Each part is exactly five hundred words long.  
******Prompt:** 21: You'll do.

* * *

**_Part one._**

"Where are you going?" Hardison asks, catching up to you in the office's hallway.

You stop and turn to him, thoroughly confused. "Home?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He grabs your hand – something you've gotten used to, being close to him these past few months – and pulls you toward the wall. His hand's shaking in yours and his breath is rushed. Which means he's nervous. Why is he nervous?

"Ya know, I keep tabs on you. I know where y'all live. How far away your apartments are and stuff. And your apartment's like, seriously, not even in this town."

"Mhm."

"Well, I was just- I mean, if you want-" he sighs, murmuring something to himself.

"Hardison?" you probe.

"Listen, Parker, baby, if you, uh, ever wanna stay like, here in town, for just a little while, or until we've gotta, like, scram for good or something… Look, I've got a lotta empty space in my apartment, so, um, it's yours. If you want it, of course, you, uh, don't have to, I just-"

You shut him up with a kiss, because he rambles too much, and hold his head in your hands. Your pale skin looks so light and fragile and breakable against his, and you can't help but think how right it feels. Fragile. You've never used that term to define yourself before; you never could afford it. It could cost you everything in any other situation. But right here, right now, with Hardison, it's perfect, and you like it.

"You want me to stay with you? Like, move in with you?" you clarify. Your hands leave his face as he looks away.

He turns back to you and nods mutely, picking up one of your hands and tracing circles around it. "Yeah," he says, voice husky. It makes your stomach twist in oh so pleasant ways.

"I don't know," you say. You do, of course, but it's kinda fun to watch him squirm. "Sophie's offered to let me stay with her." Which she hasn't. And if she offered, you don't think you would. Her place is probably all pink and frilly, and… glittery. Glittery is good. You like glittery. A lot.

"Parker?"

"Right!" You look him up and down, appraising him. "I suppose you'll do. Sure. Yes, Hardison, I'll move in with you."

"You sure?" he asks, smiling brightly.

"Yeah." You nod, your smile growing to match his. You've never lived with anyone – you never trusted anyone enough to stay with them very long – so you have a feeling this will be a challenge. But if you can make him smile like that all the time, then it's so worth it.

"Ask me again," you say, locking your arms around his neck. His arms fall naturally on your waist.

"To move in with me?"

"No, ask me where I'm going."

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but complies anyway. "Where are you going?"

You take a step closer to him and peck him on the lips lightly. "Right here."

**_Part two._**

"Where are you going?" you ask him. Your team had been split up for a little over a week when you accidentally met up again at the museum. It'd been weird for you, not living with Hardison. You missed your little routines. You missed waking up to the sweet smell of fresh coffee. You missed listening to his fingers dance away at the keyboard at night. You even missed the times he'd wake you up when he crawled into bed. If you're being entirely honest with yourself, you just missed him.

"What do you mean?" he asks, turning back to you.

"You said you were going to bed. Then you walked away."

"You want me to stay here?" he asks. He's a little confused. You've never told the others about your relationship or living arrangements (though you're pretty sure Sophie knows). It was a mutual agreement, made because you'd never hear the end of it if they (and by they, you mean Eliot) found out.

"Do you know how much sleep I got this past week?" You say, changing the topic.

"More than me?" he offers, and you smirk, rolling your eyes. The man really does need to learn how to sleep.

"That goes without saying," you counter. He laughs, a hearty genuine laugh, one that you missed more than you initially realized.

Sobering, you continue your thought. "Very, very little Hardison. And that's all your fault."

"And how's that?"

"Because! You're the one who asked me to move in with you. And I did. And every night, for four months, when I went to bed or fell asleep on the couch, there you were, clickety-click-clicking away at your keyboard. And then you'd either carry me to bed or crawl into bed after I'd fallen asleep, which woke me up every time. And when it was time to get up for a meeting, you'd come in and wake me up, all sweet and such, with a fresh cup of coffee in your hands. And then, this week, you weren't there. And I didn't have any coffee for a whole week. And no clickities. It really wasn't very fair of you."

He chuckles, and you are so not amused. "I didn't sleep much either, you know."

"See! Exactly. See what you've done to us? You've made us dependant. And now, if they catch me, - which they won't - you're going to come after me. And you'll get caught. And I'll actually care, and want to help you."

"Well," he whispers, pulling you close, "we're just gonna have to be pretty careful, then, aren't we?"

"Yeah," you whisper back. You nod over to your room, "what do you think?"

"Ask me again," he says, and you smile; you know exactly what he's referring to. It's become your catch-phrase of sorts. Just hearing the phrase, even in a normal, everyday setting makes you smile.

"Where are you going?" you ask.

He pulls you close to him as he whispers, "right here."

**_Part three._**

You stand in a circle, your standard positions for leaving each other behind. You know this is goodbye, it has to be. But you've grown to love these people. You don't want to lose them.

"Thank you, all of you," Nate says. You're not sure what he's thanking you for: helping to finish this job and take down Blackpoole, or being there for him these past months.

"You surprised me." There, you know he's talking about the beginning. How none of you trusted one another. But slowly, you all came to rely on the others.

"We had a good run," Eliot's voice cuts in. It's because of emotion, which is something the hitter doesn't display lightly. You're touched.

"It's a good time to move on," Hardison says. You know the others can't tell, but he's just as good at masking his emotions as you. The look in his eyes tells you what you already knew: it'll never be a good time to move on. Your throat swells a little with repressed tears. You have the sudden desire to get away. So, that's what you'll do.

"I'm going somewhere," you say. You don't know where. You glance at him quickly, trying to convey everything you can in a look. "Else," you add. Sophie's so close to tears and you feel bad for her, so shoot her a quick, reassuring smile. You glance back at Hardison. You don't want to leave him. You can almost feel the questions burning his tongue as Sophie speaks.

"A fresh start," she says. She's looking directly at Nate, speaking to him and only him.

"We made a difference," Nate says. He scans each of you, his brown eyes meeting every member of this team's. "Remember that."

You know you did make a difference. You and these three… four criminals around you. You love these people. The thought that you may never see them crosses your mind, and a few tears spill down your cheeks. You swipe at them quickly. No. No tears. You will see them again soon. You'll make sure of it. You nod, concreting the thought.

"Where are you going?" Hardison asks.

You open your eyes to look at him and smile. Your phrase. The one that brought you so much joy, and happiness, and… love (not that you're ready to admit you love him). The rules of the game dictate it's your turn to reply. You want to say "right here" or "wherever you are", but both sound too corny. Neither are right for this moment; for the two of you.

He'll look for you, you know. And Hardison's amazing at what he does. But so are you. You'll make it easy for him, hide in plain sight. And he'll find you. And it'll all be over quickly, and you can be together the way you want to be – completely. But he's going to have to find you first, because that's how the two you work.

"Let's see how hard you look."


End file.
